We Go On Living
by granthamfan
Summary: Cora and Robert find their way back to each other after the death of their youngest daughter. Series 3 spoilers for those that haven't seen Series 3. Told from Cora's perspective. A huge thank you to adama-roslinlove for the idea for this one-shot.


**We Go On Living**

_A/N: A world of thanks to adama-roslinlove for the idea for this one-shot. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Contains Series 3 spoilers. None of these characters belong to me. As always, thank you to SashaElizabeth for being such a wonderful beta reader! I'll include a tissue warning as I still can't watch episodes 3.05 and 3.06 without sobbing._

Robert and Cora rode in silence as they traveled from the Dower House back to Downton Abbey. After studying the material of her gloves for what was most likely the thousandth time, Cora reached over and put her hand in Robert's. Her husband flinched slightly at the initial contact, and Cora's heart sank. It was the first time she had initiated physical contact with him in weeks. Ever since her darling Sybil had been taken from them, she had wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. She had been so angry with him and with his aristocratic stubbornness. In her all-consuming grief, she had held Robert personally responsible for the death of their youngest child. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that it wasn't Robert's fault at all. But, someone had to be blamed for it, and her stoic husband seemed as good a target as any.

Her mind struggled to absorb the information they had just been given. When she had received the note from her mother-in-law earlier that day asking that the both of them call on her that afternoon, she had rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted or needed was a lecture. It was no secret that she and her husband were on opposite sides of a giant chasm. She knew that the two of them weren't the only ones affected by it. She had seen the pain in her two remaining daughters' eyes every time she sent a barbed comment or steely glare in their father's direction.

She recalled the minutes leading up to their departure for the Dower House. All he had wanted to do was pay her a compliment, and she wouldn't even allow him to do that. And, then they had arrived at her mother-in-law's house, and there stood Dr. Clarkson. She had to admit that she had been proud of Robert when he had attempted to apologize. However, she was not prepared for what the doctor was going to say. Her mind traveled back to that horrible night and how the entire family had stood on the gallery arguing over the best course of action. Dr. Clarkson had been certain that Sybil had pre-eclampsia. Cora herself had noticed that something was not quite right. Sybil was talking out of her head, saying the most random things. She had thought she was still a nurse working during the war. Having given birth three times herself, Cora had known that that wasn't normal. She felt certain that Dr. Clarkson had the right idea in wanting to take her daughter to the hospital, but by the time a decision had been reached it was too late to do anything about it.

Her beautiful little granddaughter had been born, and everything seemed fine. She was such a beautiful little girl; so much like her mother. She had apologized to Sir Philip for doubting his ability and knowledge. She and Robert had retired for the evening, both reveling in the fact that they were now grandparents. She could hardly fathom the concept. Weren't her own children babies just yesterday?

Her mind fought against the images of the events that took place not long after the household had fallen asleep. She remembered Mary shaking her awake, her eyes wide with terror. She saw Sybil-her baby-lying there, writhing in pain and struggling to breathe. She can still hear the pleas of her son-in-law mingling with her own, begging Sybil to wake up; begging her to move. She was too still; too quiet. Her heart constricted as she remembered Dr. Clarkson slowly approaching the bedside and checking for a pulse. It was all still too painful. She had pushed Robert away in that moment. She told Mary to ask him to sleep in his dressing room. No further explanation was needed. Everyone knew that the only time Robert slept in his dressing room was if Cora was very ill or very angry. She couldn't even bear to look at him.

The words that Dr. Clarkson had just spoken echoed in the recesses of her mind. _When everything is weighed in the balance, I believe that Lady Sybil was going to die._ Those words had washed over Cora like a wave of ice-cold water. Her baby would have died anyway. Robert had turned to her, and suddenly she could no longer muster the energy to be angry with him. All of her pent-up anger rushed out of her in that moment, and all she felt was grief and defeat. No matter what she had done, in the end she could not have prevented her little girl's death. When Robert walked toward her and tentatively wrapped his arms around her, she hadn't fought against it. After a brief moment, she brought her own arms around him, grasping at the material of his jacket as if for dear life. Violent sobs wracked her body, and the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the floor were the strong arms of her husband. She felt the sobs that escaped from him. She knew that he grieved for their darling daughter just as much as she did. Sybil had had her Papa wrapped around her little finger from the moment of her birth. She knew that he blamed himself just as much if not more than she had blamed him.

Now, as the motor approached the front gates of their home, the two still sat in silence. However, anger was no longer the reason for Cora's silence; it was guilt. She had been wrong to push him away. She had to let him know how sorry she was. She squeezed his hand gently, capturing his attention. "Robert," she whispered, "darling, I-" She couldn't even finished the sentence.

Robert place his other hand over hers and squeezed it gently. "Shh, my love," he offered. "I know."

The heavy air that had filled the house since Sybil's passing began to lift throughout the rest of the day. Cora and Robert didn't exchange many words, but those that were said were no longer filled with resentment. They had actually exchanged a few smiles across the dinner table that evening, an occurrence that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family. Mary and Matthew had exchanged a look of relief, and even Tom seemed to be grateful that his in-laws no longer seemed to be at each other's throats.

Cora left the drawing room a bit earlier than usual. The events of the day had made her incredibly tired. She kissed her husband on the cheek and headed for the stairs. Though she hadn't actually said so, she was rather hoping that he would follow her. As much as she had been loathe to admit over the previous weeks, she needed him desperately. She needed his shoulder to cry on; needed to feel his arms around her.

She had been in bed for close to forty-five minutes, and still no sign of Robert. He had come into her room almost every night asking if he could move back in. Now that she wanted him to, he was nowhere to be seen. She couldn't blame him, really. She had been horrid to him. She knew she could claim her overwhelming grief as an excuse, but even that was no real excuse for her behavior. She heard the sound of Robert's dressing room door closing. Barrow was leaving, so Robert was ready for bed. Why didn't he come through? Had she finally pushed him so far away that he now wanted nothing to do with her?

Unable to bear it any longer, Cora slid from underneath the covers and padded over to the door that divided her room from that of her husband. Not even bothering to knock, she opened the door and stepped across the threshold. Robert was pulling the covers back on the bed and looked up at her in surprise. "Cora?" he questioned, a quizzical look on his face.

Cora smiled, almost bashfully, and lowered her eyes. "Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked.

She heard Robert swallow and, glancing up at him, noticed tears glistening in his eyes. "I didn't think you wanted me in there."

Cora yielded to her own tears then, and crossed the short distance that stood between them, wrapping her arms tightly around her husband's waist. "I'm so sorry, Robert," she whispered, her words barely audible as she buried her face in his night shirt. "I'm so sorry that I pushed you away."

"It's alright," Robert breathed into her hair, overwhelmed with gratitude at once again having his wife-his Cora-back in his arms. "I know you blamed me, and you had every right to do so."

Cora pulled back from him, shaking her head. "No, I didn't, darling. I thought I did at the time, and we could argue about this from now on, but I don't want to fight anymore. I need you, Robert. If I'm ever to make my way out of this horrible, dark place I need you with me." She clung to her husband like never had before, unwilling to let him go for fear of losing him, too. She felt Robert's right arm tighten around her while his left arm slipped behind her knees. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her into their bedroom and placed her upon the bed. He crawled in beside her and pulled the covers over them both before once more gathering her into his arms. She had calmed down a bit, but she still trembled as she snuggled into his embrace.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to be able to be here, my darling," Robert murmured. "I was afraid I had lost you; that you didn't love me anymore."

Cora blinked back a fresh round of tears. "I never stopped loving you, darling," she replied, hoping she could effectively explain her actions. "It's just that I've never felt pain like that before. Watching our darling baby slip away, it felt as if my entire being was being torn apart. Somewhere down inside of me, I knew you weren't to blame. But, I didn't know who else to project my anger onto. I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through, Robert. You needed me as much as I needed you, and I was too blinded by grief to realize that. Even now, I'm not sure exactly how to go on. What will we do without her?" Cora's voice was barely above a whisper now.

"We go on living, my love," Robert answered. "As wrong as that may seem. It's unnatural that a child should go before her parents, but that's the way of things sometimes. Our darling baby girl wouldn't want us to spend our days in sorrow and gloom. She was the brightest spark in this house. And, we now have a beautiful little granddaughter to care for. We have to go on living."

"You're right," Cora conceded. "As hard as it will be, and as wrong as it will sometimes seem, we have to carry on. We have little Sybbie to think about. She'll need both of us. Mary and Edith will need us, too, though I know neither of them would ever admit to it." She looked into her husband's face, and ran a hand through the hair a his temple. "I love you, Robert," she whispered. "I hope you know how much. I'm so thankful that we no longer have to face this alone."

"So am I, my dearest," Robert whispered. Cora felt his arms wrapped more securely around her as she settled into his side. She knew that neither of them would ever be the same. A tragedy of this magnitude was bound to change things for everyone. But, she knew that she could face whatever came as long as she had her husband by her side. For that is whether they both belonged; with each other.


End file.
